not the muppet

Laying in bed with Henry tonight, he turns over and settles in. We often have little chats or clarifications on the day at this point, mostly fairly banal but some nights confounding.

H: Don't you just love St. Elmo's Fire?
Me: (stifling a laugh and a wtf?) Um, I'm not sure what you are talking about. Let's go to sleep.
H: You know, the song.
Me: (digging way back into my memory banks and coming up with some vague John Hughes' references and nothing more. also wondering who has played this for him. dad or nanny being the only two possibilities.) Right. I guess.
H: Why is it called St. Elmo's Fire? Was there a person St. Elmo's Fire?
Me: Yeah, probably a long time ago.
H: He's probably the one who discovered Elmo.
Me: (really stifling a laugh) That's a different Elmo.
H: Why is there another Elmo?

Things tapered of from there fairly uneventfully and he was asleep in a few minutes. Ah, the little moments I don't want to forget. I particularly like this idea of Elmo being discovered, plucked from obscurity and rising to super stardom. Also, I haven't dug up the song yet, which I suspect I will find on Jason's itunes, but I did look up the reference and it will give us something good to discuss tomorrow. Thank God for the internet.